What was hers, is theirs
by thesilentlamb
Summary: Cuddly fluff with Sarah Jane and the Doctor. Why not eh?


**I am working on a follow up to 'Anticipation' and 'A Further Study', but it's taking a while since it'll be my first bedroom scene and I'm trying to avoid it being smutty – which is more difficult than it appears! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and favourited those stories, it makes my day when an alert pops up.**

**In the meantime, some cuddly fluff completely lacking in plot. Enjoy! **

The Doctor stretched and leaned back a little deeper into the pillows. He was propped up in bed, his legs outstretched and a wonderful little invention from 21st century Earth balanced on his knees. He chuckled as he accessed the various 'apps' on the almost flat computer and marvelled at the ingenuity of humans. Their efforts were rather misdirected, he reflected, knowing as he did that it would take them at least another six centuries to find a cure for the common cold. But then where was the fun in that?

He glanced across at Sarah Jane's sleeping form and wondered how it had come to this. He knew how it had started, of course. Sarah had a rather worrying propensity to become chilled to the bone, or possessed, or otherwise compromised in a manner not quite warranting the sickbay, but enough to make him unwilling to leave her alone nonetheless. On one such occasion several weeks ago, after their usual argument about her wellbeing, she had sighed and said that if he was really so worried he should just spend the night in her room instead. He might have resisted had she not sounded quite so plaintive in her request not to be treated like an invalid. As it was, he had spent a night in her armchair watching her sleep.

No, not watching her sleep, he corrected himself, but using his superior senses to monitor her breathing and heart rate in a completely professional manner. Any undue concern he felt was because technically he was her guardian out in the stars, her elder, a father figure if you will, a friend of course. Right. He twitched at the unwelcome direction his thoughts had taken for a moment.

Since then it had become somewhat of a habit. Whenever he thought that she ought not to be unattended he would spend the night here. He would watch her from the chair, or occasionally lie on top of the covers next to her if he needed to rest. And lately he hadn't seemed to need much of a reason, a prod from his subconscious uncomfortably reminded him. He would walk her to her room, and she would lift his hand, running her tiny fingers over his much larger ones, and she would look at him from under her eyelashes and murmur, would he mind awfully…..? And how could he refuse? If he was honest with himself he was finding it increasingly difficult to refuse her anything.

He rarely slept, but found he enjoyed the unprecedented downtime much more than he expected, relaxing in what was rapidly turning from her room into theirs. He took a long look around the room, cataloguing his belongings, little marks that gave away his presence here. The chest of drawers littered with his hat and a few of his own tools and gadgets as well as Sarah's knick knacks, his cravat, jacket and scarf flung over the armchair, his shoes placed next to hers by the door; all things conspicuous in their absence from his own underused bedroom. Finally his gaze drifted back down to the woman lying next to him.

Normally she dressed in long pyjamas for bed, but tonight she had appeared in a nightdress that had made his eyes widen before he hastily looked away. It was hardly designed to be alluring, being simple white cotton covered in purple polka dots, but it clung to her hips and ended mid-thigh, and was only held up by two thin straps. She was lying on her front, her arms under her pillow and the blankets only pulled up her waist. The expanse of bare back revealed to him was doing rather alarming things to his imagination. He refocused his attention on the game he was playing for a few more minutes before stifling a yawn. He stretched again, acknowledging to himself that tonight may need to be a night for sleep. Briefly, he considered returning to his own bedroom but an emotion he was unable to name tugged at him and he found himself unwilling to leave the warm cocoon of comfort provided by Sarah's presence.

He stood and rolled his shoulders and placed the tablet computer down on the bedside table, then after a moment's hesitation began to remove his shirt. He hung it over the chair with the rest of his clothes and carefully, so as not to disturb Sarah, he lifted the blankets, sliding into the bed next to her. He lay on his side watching her for a few minutes and then unable to resist he reached out and gently stroked his fingertips over her exposed shoulder blade. She stirred a little, shifting in her sleep and then rolled her far shoulder towards him, turning her back on him but coming closer at the same time. The Doctor smiled and wound his arm around her waist, drawing her into the curve of his body and sliding his other arm under her pillow. She hummed and settled into his embrace and he inhaled the scent of her hair.

She stirred again and turned in his arms, her eyes blinking slowly open.

"Hello" she murmured

"Hello to you too" he said quietly, gently bumping her nose with his own.

She gave him a sleepy smile and placed her hands against his chest.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The Doctor shrugged innocently.

"I need to sleep. Here seemed as good a place as any"

Sarah twinkled at him and buried her head back into the pillow they were now sharing. The Doctor adjusted his position slightly and tucked her head under his chin. He began to run his hand lightly up and down her back as she snuggled into him, each stroke travelling a little lower until his hand was sweeping all the way from her shoulder to her thigh, long lazy strokes that somehow managed to be soothing and set his fingertips tingling all at once. The Doctor hesitated as his hand met the hem of her nightdress and he wrapped his arm back round her waist instead, ignoring the inner voice that had corrected his initial thought of 'not appropriate' to 'not _yet'_.

Sarah turned in his arms again and he tightened his hold, pressing his chest against her back, feeling her single heart beat pound next to one of his own. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck and relaxed, closing his eyes as she drifted off in his arms.

**Well, I did **_**say**_** there was no plot…. any thoughts?**


End file.
